


Bubbles

by Chosca



Series: Little Niall [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 18-Year-Old Niall, Age Play, Baby Niall, Fluff, M/M, cuties being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2825663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chosca/pseuds/Chosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall's a grumpypants who needs a bath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubbles

"Niall," Zayn tries, outstretching an arm. Louis crosses his ankles and leans back, watching the ordeal. Sure, it was amusing at times, but only when you weren't the one smack bang in the middle of one of Niall's tantrums.

The Yorkie boy leans swiftly to the side, narrowly avoiding a stuffed duck to the face.

"I wanna!"  
  
"Well not everyone gets what they want, Nialler." Liam chimes in, an attempt to help poor Zayn.  
  
"I do! I wanna!"

"You don't, Niall," Zayn says, always easy on the stern tone. He took a step forward and curved his fingers, beckoning him closer. Niall doesn't budge, though. Nothing seemed to be working, not even hugs. Zayn makes a mental note to put Niall to bed earlier than usual; no sleep meant a cranky toddler, especially in Niall's case.

  
"I wanna I wanna I wanna!" Niall shouts, stomping childishly on the floor. Liam watches on in astonishment, itching his hand nervously. "I wanna feed meself! I don't need a dad! I don't want a dad! I don't wanna!"

  
Before anyone can stop him, Louis makes a snarky remark, "I thought you said you did wanna."

  
Almost everyone shoots him a glare. Zayn would've, if he could've, but he had to keep an eye out for any other flying objects coming his way (it was almost always a toy, but.) Louis only did this when he wanted to stir Niall up, only when he wasn't the one being terrorized. Of course, it was more fun that way. He certainly wasn't making it any easier.  
As expected, Niall only gets grumpier and more upset in response to Louis' comment, dropping down onto his backside.

  
Zayn sighs. Liam sighs. Harry rubs his forehead in exasperation. Louis snorts.

  
Sometimes, Niall liked to feed himself.

  
It depended on his mood, really; sometimes his little side took hold with a stronger grasp than usual. He'd act younger...leaving the everyday responsibilities to the others, asking for things, shrinking back behind one of the boys and keeping quiet, as though he was shy. It was then that he enjoyed eating food that was offered to him on the fork (or the spoon) during one or more of their meals.

  
Sometimes, however, it was tossed up. Sometimes his littlest side showed through and instead demanded he handle his own food. Usually this was okay, on occasions when they had sandwiches for lunch, or toast for breakfast.

  
But this time, they weren't quite as lucky. Tonight they were surprised by their team with a nice, home-cooked meal of spaghetti bolognaise. And it just so happened that little Niall wanted to eat his serve all by himself this time. Zayn had stepped in to refuse, like a responsible parent, but it didn't end well.

  
And here they are. Four exhausted, hungry daddies and a complaining tot, flat on the floor with crocodile tears streaming down his flustered cheeks.

  
"Make him stop crying!"

  
"Oh gee Lou, I wonder how we could've prevented that," Liam retorts, frowning back at his bandmate. "If it weren't for you, Niall might've calmed down at some point."  
"Lads, shhh," Zayn hisses, crouching beside his blond friend. Time to turn on the natural speaking voice. It fixed the worst of problems, perhaps it could fix this one.

  
"Hey, hey, hey," he coos, "Heeey, shhh, babycakes. Shhhbabes."

  
Niall opens his red, tear riddled eyes and sniffles, rubbing the one on the left.

  
"I'm sorry I got mad," Zayn says softly, working up the courage to rub Niall on the shoulder. "I was just a little bit reluctant, that's all. It's just...spag bol..."

  
"I can handle it!" Niall cried rather suddenly, alarming Zayn, forcing him to interrupt his sentence before he started crying all over again. "I know you can, big boy."

  
Louis goes to open his mouth, but Liam shoves a pillow in his face. Not this time. They were hoping for success shortly.

  
"Listen...Niall, look at me."

  
Niall's lashes flutter, vision shrouded by his crocodile tears. Zayn's voice was working its wonders. Not everyone could let that sigh of relief go yet, though.

  
Zayn turns to look at the other boys; Liam and Louis were talking amongst themselves, by the looks of it, arguing, and Harry was rather intently focused on his phone. The Bradford boy clears his throat and speaks softly.

  
"...I'll let you eat your dinner on your own, okay?"

  
Niall looks astounded, evidently shocked that he'd gotten his own way. "Really?"

  
"You have to promise me something though, yeah?" Zayn prompted, carting his ring clad fingers through Niall's hair. "Try your best not to get it all over the place. Promise me, Nialler."

  
Niall doesn't hesitate to respond positively, but he wasn't entirely telling the truth. By this point he was just happy he'd successfully wept his way into getting what he wanted. That sort of thing only worked on rare occasions...Zayn occasions. An argument would often start with Louis and, of course, end with Zayn. Niall loved and idolized Louis like a champion football player but nothing was up for discussion when it came to these situations, not without a smack on the bum or a confiscation. But Zayn, he was an easy nut to crack. Louis, well...he was a lot more like concrete.

  
"Dinner time, lads!"

  
Niall's head lifts so fast Zayn fears whiplash. "Zayn! Time to eat!"

  
"What's he so happy about?" Liam asks with caution, getting to his feet as Niall scoots around the corner into the kitchen. "Don't tell me you-"

  
"I made him promise not to get anything like, dirty," Zayn tries, although his tone suggests that damn, he's gone and done it again. "I'll keep an eye on him. We all will, yeah?"

  
Liam shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

~-------~

In Niall's defense, he was hungry. It's not like they didn't _try_ to prevent the inevitable, but by the time everyone had finished their meal, everything from Niall's nose down to the rim of his t-shirt had been painted rather un-artistically with pasta sauce.

  
"We really have to consider a bib," Louis sighs, nudging his empty plate away and leaning, with a huff, on his palm.

  
"Bib," Niall echoes absentmindedly.

  
"May _be_ , babe," Zayn admits, feeling entirely and wholeheartedly responsible for Niall's horrendously messy display. But, just because he took the blame, didn't mean he was at all excited for what happened as a consequence. It wasn't like he didn't like it. He just doesn't want to have to go on up to his hotel room, take out his suitcase, and change his clothes for it. He grunts. Water, he remembers, everywhere.

  
"Yeah," Liam says, agreeing to something Niall'd said but Zayn was too busy in thought to hear, "But you know what that means, don't you?"

  
Niall looks somewhat expectant, like he was waiting for the answer, but his face falls when he figures it out himself. "No."

  
"Aw," Louis groans, rubbing both eyes with the digits of his fingers, "Not this again."

  
"I don't want to-"

  
"Well it's happening whether or not like." It happens all at once, Zayn shoots from the chair, swoops Niall up in his arms, and heads for the door. The last thing Liam, Louis and Harry hear are the wails of their grumpy little.

  
"Bathtime," Harry sings, collecting the plates.

 

~-------~

 

"Come on."

  
"I don't want to."

  
_He's taking a stand_ , Zayn thinks, exasperated. _That'll be right_. "You're feeling very naughty today, aren't you?"

  
Niall doesn't respond, instead stomping a foot childishly. _Could it_ get _any bloody worse?_ Zayn reaches over and hooks his long fingers underneath the strap of Niall's overalls, successfully unclipping the left side. This was much to Niall's distaste, but Zayn is quick and efficient, swiftly unhooking the remaining strap and yanking the denim all the way down to Niall's ankles.

  
"Lift," Zayn asks, referring to Niall's foot so he could pull off the article of clothing. Expectedly, that foot stays firmly planted on the ground.

  
"Niall." Zayn warns. He wasn't going to keep his cool much longer, Niall knew it, and when he lost his patience he wasn't very pleasant. It was all very well for Niall until that happened, so, disgruntled, the little lifted his foot and Zayn removed his overalls. Next, for the shirt, which was when Niall finally decided to cooperate. Not without a pout, of course, but at least he was obeying orders.

  
"I hope you know how good you're being," Zayn points out gently, pulling Niall's lemon yellow t-shirt off (with the aid of Niall's hands in the air). The Irish boy lets out a quiet sigh; it may have looked bratty, but he was genuinely glad Zayn's happy voice had returned. Being in the toddler headspace was difficult sometimes...he tended to misbehave on occasion, but his favourite thing to see was his caretakers smiling, laughing. Even after Niall'd been cheeky and disobedient, he was still given the privilege to witness it. Sometimes he wondered if he could be any luckier.

  
"Underwear, babe."

  
"Oh," Niall huffs out, slipping his briefs to the ground and stepping out of them. Zayn reaches down and slides the clothes across the floor, right out of the disaster zone. Well, _soon to be_ disaster zone. Oh boy.

  
"Bathtime," Niall says, sounding defeated. Zayn jumps to cheer him up. "Nah, babe. Duckies and toy boats time." And, it works, of course. Niall drops to his hands and knees to dig around in the basket for his toys, while Zayn perfects the bathwater's temperature. Not too hot, not too cold, absolutely frothing with giant green bubbles. Niall's face lights up when he turns back toward the bathtub.

  
"Wow, Zayn! For me?"

  
"For you," Zayn beams in a similarly bright and wonderous tone, as though he was speaking to a three year old. Which of course, he was...only bigger. "Hop on in."

  
Just as the older had predicted, water splashes up and out of the tub, drenching the front of his singlet shirt. Niall's joy lets him forget, for now. At least he'd thought to take off his overshirt first.

  
At Niall's sigh of relief, Zayn giggles, the kind of smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. A genuine one. "Nice and warm, yeah?" he says as he begins to slosh the water against Niall's pale front. "You won't want to get out now. Oh no."

  
He recieves the response he'd been waiting for, Niall all teeth and wriggles. The water begins to wave around him as he moves, so Zayn gets to work soaping him up with the sponge before he can create more puddles on the floor. Niall finds the toys again and is thankfully distracted as Zayn washes his back.

  
"Lost my senses," Zayn sings as he goes, "I'm defenseless.."

  
Niall looks up and flashes his teeth again, and Zayn grins right back. He plans on continuing his verse, until he remembers an Usher song Niall likes and decides to sing that instead.

  
"...Got me feelin' it..."

  
"Caught up!" Niall responds immediately, doing a little shoulder dance.

  
"I'm losin' control!"

  
"This girl got a hold on me," they sing together. Niall arches his back, sticking his chest out as Zayn works it over with the sponge. He'd certainly improved his mood; Zayn's glad (as he squeezes no-tears shampoo into his palm) he'd succeeded in making his baby happy again. He just hopes it lasts until he puts him to bed.

  
He can hear Niall humming the rest of the song as the boy wiggles about in the water, closing his eyes when Zayn begins massaging the shampoo into Niall's hair. Suddenly, the doorknob turns and startles them both out of their content and quiet daze.

  
"Oh, sorry, sorry," Harry apologizes slowly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Shit, yeah, sorry."

  
"No swearing," Niall says, closing his eyes and falling back into the calm. "Liam says so."

  
"Liam's right," Zayn assures him, pressing his fingertips gently into Niall's scalp. "Here to help?" he asks Harry.

  
"Mm," Harry nods, knees cracking as he kneels to the floor. He's not there for long though, he's mock shrieking as he gets up again. "Either it rained inside or someone been splashing!"

  
There's a telltale giggle from Niall, who hides amongst the lime bubbles. He blows hard as he can and they go floating toward Harry, who manages to catch a bundle in his hand and send it tumbling back through the air.

  
"I was washing your hair, babes," Zayn calls to Niall, not waiting for a response and reaching over to resume lathering up his blond and brunet locks. Harry leans forward, bracing his arms against his damp knees. "All soapy and clean."

  
"Aaaaalll soapy," Niall announces, squishing the rubber ducky until it lets out a moist squeak, spitting a jet of water out at Zayn. It's obvious Niall hadn't been aware of the duck's pinprick tear by the look on his face when water shoots out of it, but he figures out how to have fun with his new discovery. "Hey! No squirting Zayn," Harry says, in turn earning a spray of water in his own direction.

  
"Heeeey!"

  
Niall giggles, and so Harry can't help but smirk. Which is probably a bad thing, as like most toddlers, Niall found this to be nothing but encouraging.  
"Harry, quit stirrin' him up and help me wash the shampoo out."

  
"Oi! Stop that! Oi! Okay just-..hey!"

  
It takes the confiscation of Niall's defective blue ducky before Harry can get close enough to rinse out the suds in Niall's hair without getting squirted. Harry's hands are big, but they're gentle as they rinse, pouring water over the little's head using a small red bucket he'd been playing with. Niall likes having bathtime with Harry, and if Harry wasn't such a sucker for jokes and mucking about, their bath sessions together would've been the quietest if not for Zayn's.

  
"Shut them tight!" Harry whispers all enthusiastic-like, bending forward. Niall does as he's told, squeezing his eyelids shut as Harry washes away the remaining suds at the front of his head. Despite asking for Niall to close his eyes, Harry holds his hand against the Irish boy's forehead, blocking the water anyway. Better to be safe than sorry.

  
"You're all done, Nialler!" Harry exclaims, clapping once and standing up straight. Niall looks up at his caretakers, smile evident, but eyes drooping. Zayn and Harry glance at one another with a knowing look. Definitely time for bed.

~--------~

They hold a hand each, helping him step out of the tub and onto the soaking wet bath mat.

  
"Kinda defeats the purpose," Harry mumbles, enveloping Niall in his great big fluffy towel. Neither of them hear him, Zayn's busy patting the sleepy tot down. The feeling's so lovely that Niall starts leaning toward Harry, resting upon his clothed shoulder. Harry coos, rubbing Niall's back soothingly.

  
"Are you sleeping with one of us tonight Nialler?" he asks, wordlessly volunteering to dry off the blond's sopping wet hair so he could resume leaning on him without the water being an issue. His thin shirt was already pretty damp, but. Niall nods almost right away, to their delight. "Zayn and Harry."

  
"Beddybyes with just Harry and me?" Zayn asks.

  
"Yes please."

  
Harry shines brighter than a lighthouse. Nights like these were the best, he counted himself lucky they were frequent. They'd maybe start off rocky, but always end this way, and it was simply one of the most wonderful things.

  
The caretakers lead their tot on out of the bathroom, Zayn walking ahead to get his hands on Niall's clean undergarments. On slipped a fresh tank top, up went fresh boxers. It was a hot night tonight, but Niall insisted on still wearing his onesie. It was a good thing Liam had the right mind to purchase a onesie with thin fabric and short sleeves for this such occasion. Harry'd pointed out once that he'd wear one himself, it was so soft.

  
"Dummy?"

  
"Way ahead of you," Zayn assures him, fishing around in the suitcase. He finds the pacifier and a plush toy, one of which was a present from a fan. It's even softer than Niall's summer onesie, with a satin ribbon and the scent of strawberries. Ideal for sleeping. Sometimes Zayn wondered where Niall put all these wonderful plush gifts, he was given so many.

  
"There you are, my sweet," he says, dancing the bunny across Niall's knee before handing it to him. "He smells very pretty."

  
"He does," Harry agrees. Niall is over the moon with excitement (he'd show it more evidently if he wasn't so exhausted) to sleep with it for the first time tonight. It was going to be a very pleasant slumber indeed.

  
"Scooch over," Harry asks, taking the dummy from Zayn and popping it into Niall's mouth. The little curls up into a ball, allowing his caretakers to untuck the blanket from beneath him and pull it over. Niall knew that they weren't quite ready for sleep yet; it was a baby's bedtime, not a daddy's. To his surprise however, Zayn stays, kicking off his socks, shoes and pants and sliding in beside him.

  
Harry promises to return later, and with a goodnight kiss and cuddle, he's out the door. With the light off, Niall's sleepiness really hits him. Zayn wraps his arms around his body, pressing a kiss to the tot's damp hair.

  
"I'm proud of you," Zayn whispers in the dark. Niall's half-lidded, but he listens. "You were a good boy and listened to me and Harry in the bath after all."

  
"I don't mean to make you mad," Niall replies softly, taking his dummy out inches from his lips. "I love you and Liam and Louis and Harry lots and lots...even if I don't act like it sometimes."

  
Zayn smiles against Niall's neck, so it's not lost in the darkness. "I know. We love you too."

  
Niall moves the pacifier back between his teeth and he's out in minutes, with thoughts of seeing his bandmates for breakfast tomorrow morning. And Harry would return later too; he couldn't wait to snuggle up with him and Zayn and everything would be _wonderful._

  
Perhaps bathtime wasn't so bad after all, if by the end of the night he was in the safe and gentle arms of his caretakers. He'd have to remember that for next time.

**Author's Note:**

> :) thankyou for reading!


End file.
